Hearing Spirits Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Impressions of life lie in landscapes of this desert of
Phoenix, lying under the stars when camping, feeling the
comfort of nature covering me with it's essence.

Wind blowing scents of pine trees into my lungs, tranquil-
izing and soothing my being totally, falling asleep, dream-
ing of the beauty that I saw and felt all around me.

Even though sleeping, hearing the spirits of centuries ago
singing to my inner soul, their depths drawing spirituality
of my being, letting them be absorbed as I lie sleeping.